


Ten

by goodtea



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Family Dynamics, LOTS of violence, M/M, Mention of eating disorder, Multi, Murder, tags updated as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:14:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodtea/pseuds/goodtea
Summary: Theron is a simple kid. He likes music, he likes the color black, and he does well in school when he attends. Simple. Nothing to see here.Theron, and his family, hold more than one dark secret. Ten.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the intro! Just Theo and his mentor Damaris on a completely normal, sunny day :)

Damaris had never once had to ask someone to step out of her way. Her brown eyes glinted with just the right balance or annoyance and danger to warn off any stranger of the danger of being in her way. It was something her protege, Theron, had never mastered and he stumbled after her with difficulty through the busy city streets. He could never, and had never attempted, to copy the confident sway of her walk. He knew her edge came from something else entirely.

Daramis flicked a stray hair over her shoulder, taking the barest moment to make sure Theron was still behind her before she slipped between two crowded buildings with the ease water pouring through a crack. There was an easy grace to her movements. Theron often wondered if she'd been born with that grace, always certain of her place in the world, or if it was something she'd practiced and learned. Damaris herself would certainly never tell him.

He just barely managed to catch up as she, without hesitation, flicked open a side door, strutting her way through some back-restaurant kitchen. Theron had no clue if she had contacts in the restaurant, but he doubted it. He trailed behind her quietly, through a hallway and then up a winding staircase, certain they hadn't been stopped yet simply by the power of Damaris' confidence. She drew any questioning eyes to her, both acknowledging and dismissing anyone who managed to make eye contact. Theron followed like a black shadow or, he mused, like a dark smudge. Something you wished wasn't there, but couldn't quite wipe away.

Damaris turned that same dismissive gaze onto him when they'd reached the roof, holding the door open at the top of the staircase, but not proceeding any further. "You know what to do." Her voice was smooth, like honey, but carried that same edge to it that she carried with everything she was. She spoke like every sentence was a command. Often, it was something people liked about her. 

It made Theron want to shrink in on himself.

But she was also right. He knew what to do. He would sigh if he dared to, but instead he simply hefted his shoulder bag a little higher and trudged past his mentor up onto the roof. He set his equipment up on the roof, the picture of taking his time, but with the efficiency that came with repeating the same actions a million times. At the very least, Damaris had raised Theron into among the best in their field of work. After he had set up came the wait. Theron was patient and Damaris, holding the door open, was equally so. They'd been paid in full up front off of the weight of their reputation, so all that was left was to do the job and then get out. 

Damaris watched the sun as the minutes ticked by, eyeing the lengthening shadows. "Soon," she muttered. Theron envied her infallible ability to tell time by the sun alone. He shifted uncomfortably on the roof's pavement while Damaris maintained her position by the door without a twitch.

Finally, Theron spotted the job across the long city street. Four lanes of traffic, two crowded walkways, three floors, and a glass window separated Theron from his target. A late sleeper, the woman had finally sat up in bed, giving Theron a clear view of her back as she slowly started a set of morning stretches. Mid-thirties, but fit and beautiful with golden-blond hair that tumbled down her shoulders. Theron knew nothing about her, really, outside of the daily habits their employer had outlined for them. She could be a mother. She could be the ex of the wealthy man who had paid them. She could be completely unrelated to anything. Theron hesitated, finger on the trigger.

"Theo." 

There was just enough chill in Damaris' voice to snap Theron out of his musings and snap his finger back.

Across four lanes of traffic, two crowded walkways, and three floors a window broke. Between the silencer and the noise of the city, not a bang nor a whimper was heard.

Theron packed up his equipment with the same lazy, practiced efficiency he'd unpacked it with. When they left it was Theron in the lead this time, quickly splitting ways at the bottom of the staircase. Damaris, never hesitating, made to exit through the front of the restaurant, unchallenged as always. Theron skulked his way through the kitchen to the side door, barely noticed. What had he just done? Had he killed someone important, some politician or mafia member? Had the woman just been the casualty of wealthy violence, the lover of and a warning to some big dog in the city? Theron would never know and he would take his questions about the woman, and about many other targets, with him to the grave. As he emerged back into the city streets, familiar with their exit plan, he prayed that the grave would come for him soon and for Damaris sooner.


	2. Theron Eats Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo eats some lunch.

Theron had shoulder length hair and a gaze that most would describe as "dead". Damaris criticized his black shirts and dark pants, but as far as Theron was concerned she could pry them out of his cold dead hands when he eventually kicked the bucket. Besides, if they were going to do a mission that allowed him to wear whatever he wanted then he was going to take full advantage and stock up on band t-shirts and tight pants.  
"You could at least pretend you didn't get your entire wardrobe from Hot Topic," Damaris muttered from the doorway, leaning against it casually. She had on loose "bohemian" pants and a beige tank with her hair in a messy bun that curled and cascaded down her back and shoulders. She was the picture of an earthy-crunchy mom and if her current wardrobe just happened to make movement and weapon concealment easy than no one was any the wiser.  
"And you could pick a cover that actually fits your personality, Ma. Maybe serial killer?" he quipped back. Ma snorted in amusement.  
"If I dressed like a serial killer then we'd never lure out the targets. You remember the mission, right Theo?" She raised an eyebrow.  
"Of course," Theo muttered. It was a unique mission, and Theo was surprised Ma had even agreed to it. The mission objective was to act as guards to a mafia boss' daughter while pretending to be old family friends who know nothing about any underground business. The mafia boss in question had recently landed in jail and had quickly been convicted to 20 years in prison, with parole eligibility at 10 years dependent on good behavior. No one in the know expected the man to serve more than five years of his sentence, but he'd hired the two of them for a short while to sniff out the rats who had gotten him caught in the first place, as well as watch over his only daughter while they conducted their investigation. Though it was more accurate to say that Damaris would be sniffing out the rats and Theo, conveniently the same age as Caroline Carr, would be responsible for watching over the girl in the day to day.  
While Theo dreaded the detail work, it was so rare that he got to actually act his age that he was actually looking forward to the job. What did the average teenager act like? He barely knew, having collected most of his information from tv shows and pop culture.  
Ma was quiet for a moment, but then shrugged. "Whatever. Have a good first day of school. I'll be spending the day moving Caroline's junk from her mansion to here. Someone should have already told her of the plan, but I'll be picking you both up from school just in case today so don't let her wander off."  
Theron rolled his eyes, but nodded. He knew the plan. He'd scaled buildings and assassinated people before. He could handle keeping an eye on one girl his age. This was going to be cake.  
***  
Theo found himself wondering if Damaris would be terribly upset if he murdered his half of the mission. It wouldn't be the first time he'd fucked up something important and he could claim it was an accident. He'd "accidentally" buried a knife in Caroline Carr's throat in the middle of a school cafeteria. Using the provided the plastic butter knives that came in the plastic cutlery packets everyone used. He eyed the butter knife. It would be difficult, but not impossible.  
Across from him Caroline chattered away, oblivious to her guardian's homicidal thoughts. If ignorance could be bottled and turned into a human, that would be Caroline Carr. Briefly, Theo tuned back into what she was saying so he could at least pretend he cared.  
"...and then my daddy said the Mexicans are the reason why the taxes are so high. Like, they can't help being poor. It's really sad," aaannnd Theo was done. Listening ears off. Around her, the kids she surrounded herself with mostly nodded in sympathy though Theo could see a few side-eyeing each other as Caroline carried on.  
Theo was "conveniently" placed in all of Caroline's classes and Caroline had invited him, as "the new kid", to sit with her group at lunch. She'd briefly introduced Theo as "the new kid" to her group at the very start of lunch before launching into her current tirade. Theo had yet to discern the purpose of anything she said and he was fairly certain she did not know his name.  
Theo felt a nudge to his right. He turned. It was one of the kids that had been side eyeing each other, a girl. Blond hair, blue eyes, the picture of a stereotypical glossy mean girl. She smiled at him warmly.  
"Stacy," she introduced herself, "I don't think Caroline said your name."  
"Theo." Theo replied trying to pretend he wasn't completely disinterested with anyone who would be friends with someone like Caroline. It would help to blend in with the group, even if his black clothes already had him standing out at this table of jocks and cheerleaders.  
"Short for Theodore?" Someone across from Stacy asked. He was tall and muscled with a faded buzz cut. "I'm Jeff by the way."  
"Short for Theron."  
"How do you get Theo from 'their-in'?" This time it was a guy next to Jeff talking. His arms were practically bursting through his shirt, his hair short but styled.  
Theo shrugged. "It's from the spelling, not pronunciation. Theron is greek, but it's spelled T-H-E-R-O-N."  
Jeff frowned. "Greek is weird." He paused, seemed to think, then added, "No, uh, offense meant by that. I know Caroline sets a bad example, but we're not all like her."  
Theo shrugged. Across from him Caroline chattered on, seeming oblivious to the conversation happening right next to her.  
"It's a bit pointless to argue with her, so we've learned to mostly ignore her when she gets like that," Stacy offered an apologetic shrug. "Did you just move here?"  
"Yeah." Theo picked at his food. It looked edible enough, but he didn't trust food that was mass-produced. Ma never let him eat anything that wasn't freshly cooked when she could help it, resulting in most fast food tasting a lot like plastic to Theron. "I don't know how long we're staying, but this is home for now." It wasn't the truth, but also wasn't a lie. They'd stay for however long it took Damaris to kill off every rat in the organization and then pass off Caroline's care to some other mercenaries who were a bit cheaper. Damaris was worth the price tag for her efficiency, but it also meant that they were rarely hired or kept on for anything long-term.  
"Do you play any sports?" Steve asked, his shirt sleeves threatening to rip apart even from the minimal movement that came with his pre-packed lunch of some sort of stew.  
"No. I'm not out of shape though."  
Steve and Jeff both looked at Theo with critical eyes at that. Without any prompting, they began spewing forth ideas.  
"A bit scrawny for football, but maybe track? I bet you'd kill at the sprints."  
"Or maybe swimming? Building up your shoulders wouldn't take long and they could use another member this season since Chris dropped out of the team to focus on his GPA this year."  
"Gymnastics could also work. How aerodynamic do you think you are?"  
"There's also the dance team. They made it to nationals last year. Though the captain is a bit of a control freak and she WILL make you keep a food diary-"  
"Actually," Theron interrupted, "I was thinking of trying out for cheer." Despite their reassurances Theo had already assumed the worst about Caroline's friend group and expected ridicule. Instead he got-  
"Oh, good thinking. That'll really strengthen your thigh and core muscles," from Steve and-  
"Our cheer team is brutal. They put stunts in every routine, so be ready for lots of bruising if you make the cut. Me and Steve switch between football and soccer so if you need tips on muscle cream hit us up. Also Stacy did cheer last year, so she can probably give you some tips on what they're looking for."  
Stacy smiled. "I did. I quit this year though because I fucked up my knee during last year's season when my spotter dropped me. I can't really do sports anymore, but I can give you the ins and outs easy."  
Theo blinked. "Thanks."  
"You wouldn't have fucked up your knee last season if you'd just dropped your weight like coach asked you to. Maybe then Brent wouldn't have dropped you." Theo looked across the table at Caroline in shock. Caroline smiled at the four of them and to Theo's surprise Stacy smiled back, though Steve and Jeff looked ready to murder Caroline. Theo would know.  
Stacy tossed some of her golden hair back over her shoulder. "If I'd kept up my eating disorder, you mean."  
The table went silent.  
Caroline was unfazed. "It's not THAT hard to work out extra Stacy. You could have done it." Caroline paused. "You were the best on the team," she said, softer, "and you could have been brilliant."  
"You mean I could have starved myself while working out like a professional athlete. I think I would have been dead, or maybe hospitalized instead. And it's a bit hard to do cheer from the inside of an eating disorder residential." Stacy held Caroline's gaze, unflinching. Caroline looked away.  
"Whatever. I'm just saying it would have been better if you were still on the team. I miss practicing with you. You made us all better because we had to keep up with you."  
Stacy's gaze softened. "Thank you Caroline. It's nice to hear that. I just wish you'd said it nicer first."  
Caroline grumbled an apology and conversation returned to the table.  
"Sorry about that," Stacy turned to Theo. "We're still working on making her a good person."  
"You should have seen her last year," Jeff added, "she was a complete brat when she first enrolled."  
"But we've gotten to know her," Steve explained, "and we've learned most of the hurtful shit is just a cover for what she actually means. We're trying to get her to say what she actually means first."  
"She's not really an awful person," Stacy's voice was soft, "we figure she picks a lot of it up from her home life. We met her dad last year and he's.. really not nice." She frowned.  
Theo wondered how much they really knew. The rest of lunch passed uneventfully. Stacy, Steve, and Jeff also shared some classes with Caroline and, therefore, with Theo. They made a point to have him sit with them or next to them. Theo found out that Steve and Jeff were attached to each other like an arm to a body, though who was the arm and who was the body wasn't clear. They seemed to share that. Stacy was chipper and kind. People gravitated to her naturally, even the teachers.  
At the end of the day Theo managed to catch Caroline by her locker as she put her books away. Theo noted she didn't seem to intend to take a single book with her. Was she skipping on doing homework then, or did she own separate copies at home? At his current home, that she would be staying at.  
"I take it you're the new security, then?" Caroline didn't look up from where she was shoving a copy of Paradise Lost on top of a growing pile.  
Theo didn't say anything, just waited patiently for her to finish.  
She finally slammed her locker shut and seemed to really look at Theron for the first time that day. Her face grew serious. "You don't look like much, but my father's assistant said you and your partner are top of the line. So don't let me die, got it?" There was something cold and dead in her gaze as she said and Theron recognized a bit of himself in that. Caroline the vapid school bully was gone. This was Caroline the mafia princess talking.  
Theo shifted his body language. He dropped the casual lean against the lockers he'd been holding and straightened up. He shifted his balance to his core, knees slightly bent. Ready. He let some of that same deadness bleed into his own expression. "My partner will escort us both to where you'll be staying while under our protection. The only people that have died under my watch are the ones I got paid to kill."  
Caroline seemed to also recognize something in his gaze, because she gave him a firm nod before switching back from mafia princess to brat. "Good. But we're going to have to do something about your wardrobe. I don't know if you noticed, but all my friends are fashionable and dressing all emo is SO tacky.. "  
Theo groaned and turned away, heading to the front entrance where he knew Damaris was waiting for them. Caroline followed, still chattering about fashion choices and color coordinating, the picture of a careless and ignorant school girl. But Theo knew she wasn't careless, she couldn't be with her father in prison, and she wasn't ignorant to the underground, at least. If the vapidness was intentional it was a perfect cover. No one would care to look deeper into her life or even want to. And if it wasn't an act Theron didn't care. He was getting paid to keep her alive, not like who she was as a person. As Ma kept reminding him, his own feelings didn't matter in the face of a job. The job came first.


End file.
